


Christmas at Talleyfer's

by goseaward



Category: Sins of the Cities Series - K. J. Charles
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, M/M, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:47:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28309230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goseaward/pseuds/goseaward
Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and Rowley helps Clem with the last of the decorations.
Relationships: Rowley Green/Clem Talleyfer
Comments: 7
Kudos: 35
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Christmas at Talleyfer's

**Author's Note:**

  * For [couldaughter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/couldaughter/gifts).



Rowley came home to find Clem standing in his parlour with a box of Christmas decorations and a lost expression.

He closed and locked the door behind him and walked over for a quick kiss. Clem turned it into a longer one, comfortable; Rowley could understand the need. Clem wrapped his arms around Rowley's waist and folded over him, burying his face in the side of Rowley's neck. "I'm so glad you're home," Clem said.

Rowley rubbed his hands up and down Clem's back soothingly. "I'm glad to be here. What have you been up to?"

"I've been decorating for Christmas," Clem said, "only...I don't know. I was fine doing the parlour—Polly helped—and we have the wreath up on the door, did you see?"

"I did. It looks very well."

"Thank you. That's mostly Polly, I imagine." Rowley was sure it wasn't, but knew Clem would get sidetracked if he said so now. He'd compliment him later to make up for it. "But then I came in here to finish up, and suddenly I didn't know where to put anything at all."

Rowley squeezed him tight. "Would you prefer to do it tomorrow? We've twelve days, after all."

"No, I'd rather just be done," Clem said indistinctly.

"Let's sit down," Rowley said.

They moved to the newer, more comfortable, and larger settee that Clem had purchased earlier in the autumn. It made the parlour a little more cramped, but also meant that Clem and Rowley could sit down together for tea when the fancy took them, no armrests or space between them. Clem sat in his usual position when they were alone, a little off centre from the middle, and Rowley tucked himself between Clem's side and the arm of the settee. One of Clem's arms came across his shoulders, a comforting weight. Clem relaxed even more at the familiarity of the position.

"I'm sorry," Clem said. "How was your day? I didn't even ask."

"Oh, nothing to tell. I prepared two more birds for the next mount, and I actually received a hunting trophy—yes, I know," he said at Clem's startled look, "but it was a local businessman who'd been invited on a hunting trip and didn't know anyone in the country. It's been so cold the animal was still in a shape to be mounted. I worked on that for most of the day. And I sold one of the ducks I got in the job lot after the fire. That's one of the last."

"I'll be glad when they're all gone. I don't like reminders of that time, they're..." Clem waved his hand in the air, like blowing away smoke from a candle.

"I don't either," Rowley said with feeling.

"I imagine so." Clem sighed and leaned over so his temple rested against Rowley's head. "And now I feel silly about being so worried about Christmas decorations. At least nobody is trying to kill either of us."

"Mmm. Yes." Rowley rubbed Clem's side, and they sat in silence for a little time, until Clem sat up again.

"I think I can face the decorations now," he said. "Or—I will still need help, I think. Do you mind?"

"Not at all." Rowley stood up. "Can you tell me what the trouble is?" He knew that Clem would understand the question: he was asking if Clem knew why it was difficult as much as he was asking what the difficulty was.

"Let me think about it for a moment," Clem said, and Rowley waited. "I think...there are just too many things. I figured out where to put everything a few years ago, with Polly's help, and I know we only moved the furniture a little for the settee, but..."

Rowley considered. "All right. What if you tell me where everything was last year, and then we can figure out where to put it now?"

Clem considered this, and then nodded. "I think that would work."

"And if you need to stop for a bit, just let me know. I'm sure I could distract you," Rowley said, with no expression, but Clem understood and smiled anyway.

Clem considered the box and the room. "Last year, well, the garland went along the mantel. Mistletoe over the door, of course. We don't do that in the main rooms since we have single ladies but it's all right in here. The goose-feather tree went on the table. Miss Sweeting used to make me a small posy of holly and ivy but no one did this year since she moved out—that went on the wall over there. This year Pen and Greta sent me these," he pulled out a pair of small wax angels with tinsel along their wings, "and I'm not sure where to put them at all, since I've never had one before."

"I think we can work with that. Why don't we put the garland along the mantel again this year, to begin with?"

It was clear that most days Clem could easily have handled the work, and it was only difficult because of the long day decorating the rest of the lodging house. After they started with the garland, Clem found a rhythm, and it was more like their usual interactions, with Clem directing and Rowley following. Clem only wanted advice on the placement of the new wax angels, which Rowley was happy to provide, and Rowley thought Clem did that more to include him than because he couldn't have selected an appropriate place on his own. They saved the mistletoe for last. Clem had to put it up because Rowley was too short to reach, and he looked surprised and then pleased when Rowley walked up to him and kissed him soundly.

"Have you ever been kissed under mistletoe before?" Rowley asked him, leaving his hands where they were, on Clem's hips.

"No. Have you?"

"No. But I'd like to continue."

"Right now?" Clem said.

Rowley laughed. "If you like. But I was also thinking of...next year. For example."

"Oh. Yes." Clem smiled. "Yes."

Rowley cleared his throat. "Would it help if we wrote down what we did this year? And the order? So you don't have to wait for me next year."

Clem thought about this for a long moment and Rowley waited. "No," he said, to Rowley's surprise, and then continued, "I liked putting them up together. Let's do that again."

"Yes!" Rowley said. "I'd like that very much."

Clem kissed him again, and Rowley let himself be kissed. It hadn't got old, and Rowley rather thought it never would.

They were interrupted by a sharp rap on the door. They sprang apart. Rowley quickly removed to the settee, and Clem unlocked the door. "Hello? Oh, Polly," he said, with relief. "I wasn't expecting you. Come in."

Polly had a tray with three cups on it. Clem closed and locked the door behind her, which she did not comment on. But then, she wouldn't: she knew about them, and she was like them, so she understood the need for secrecy. She jerked her head at the settee, and after Clem had sat down next to Rowley, she held the tray out for both of them to take a cup. That was the other thing she knew about Clem, that he was perfectly fine as long as you didn't ask him to do too many things at once, and so she wouldn't give him a hot drink until she was sure he was settled. Rowley was very glad it had been her at the door.

"Mulled cider," she said. She took the third cup and sat on the remaining armchair. "Decorating for Christmas and all, it seemed right."

"It's delicious, thank you," Rowley said, after taking a sip. Clem had closed his eyes in bliss.

"It looks nice in here," Polly said.

"Thank you," Clem said warmly. He was always such a good host; Rowley often felt better just watching him welcome new people, even though Rowley himself was always welcome with Clem. "Rowley helped."

Bless Polly, she didn't make a single joke about taxidermied animals amongst the cheerful greenery. "That's very sweet. Rowley, have you seen the tree yet, or did you come straight here?"

"I came straight here," Rowley said.

Polly smiled at him. "Well, finish your cider, then we'll go look."

"I can't wait to see what you both did."

Clem put a hand on his knee and squeezed.

They finished the cider quickly and then went out to the main room. Rowley had to stop and take it in as soon as he crossed the threshold. The tree was large, tall enough that even Clem had probably needed a stool to reach the top, where a glittering tinsel-edged angel sat. The rest of the tree was hung with glass baubles and candle holders; by tradition, Clem had told him, anyone in the lodging house tomorrow, on Christmas day, would light the candles and put them on the tree. He was worried about the fire risk otherwise, and Rowley couldn't disagree. There were other decorations around the room, a garland on the mantel much like the one in Clem's room, though no mistletoe, as he'd said. Sprigs of holly were tied to the spindles on the staircase leading up to the first-floor rooms. With the cheerful fire crackling in the grate, it looked much like a greeting card Rowley had seen in a shop window earlier that day, lacking only a sprinkling of snow visible out the window.

Mr. Rillington was playing cards at the card-table with Miss Hughes, a recent addition to the lodgers. When they saw Clem and Polly walk in, Miss Hughes said, "It looks lovely, Mr. Talleyfer!"

"Thank you, Miss Hughes!" Clem said. "And thank you for your help with the garland."

"Of course! It was no trouble."

"It's a shame we haven't any painters with us at the moment," Mr. Rillington said. He was among the longest-term residents in the building, and liked to make comparisons to previous tenants, Rowley had noticed. "It looks a picture. It would be nice to capture it."

"That's very kind," Clem said.

"Would you like to join us for a game of whist?" Miss Hughes enquired.

Rowley glanced quickly at Clem. He was too kind to show any reluctance, Rowley thought, so he made an inference based on simple lack of enthusiastic reply and said, "We haven't finished our tea, Miss Hughes, I'm afraid. I quite rudely dragged Mr. Talleyfer out here to show me the decorations once I heard they were up. Perhaps a game later?"

"Of course!" she said placidly. "I haven't any plans this evening. You may knock on my door if I'm upstairs."

"Thank you, Miss Hughes," Clem said. "Mr. Green, perhaps we should finish that tea?"

"Yes. Miss Hughes, Mr Rillington," Rowley said, with a little bow, and they went out again.

It wasn't safe to hold Clem's hand in the hall, but Rowley very much wished he could. Clem looked satisfied and a little pink with the praise; Rowley was glad his rooms were close. "I told you," Rowley said, quietly so as not to be overheard, "you make this place a home. Everyone notices."

"I'm glad everyone is so happy with it."

"It's beautiful. Mr. Rillington is right about the painting. Maybe next year we can hire someone. Do you know anyone from the Jack and Knave?"

They had reached Clem's rooms. "I'm not sure. Gregory would know."

"Let's ask him, then. Next year."

"Next year," Clem said with a smile. He locked the door.

"We're under the mistletoe again," Rowley said.

"Yes," Clem said, and kissed him.

Kissing Clem never grew tiresome. Mistletoe or no mistletoe, Rowley did it as much as he could. There was something so pleasant about being able to kiss him not as a prelude to sex—although that was, obviously, also very pleasant—but simply because they liked kissing one another, and were together often enough that they could.

"Merry Christmas," Rowley said when they parted.

Clem smoothed Rowley's hair back from his face. "Not yet."

"Tomorrow, then." Rowley smiled up at him.

"And next year."

"And many years after that," Rowley said, and Clem kissed him again. Rowley very much thought that meant he agreed.


End file.
